The Marriage of Lannister and Stark
by ymaface
Summary: Sansa and Jaime are married, once again uniting the South and North. But will she forget about her loyal sworn shield? Rated M just in case. Totally AU


It was a very important day in Westeros for his majesty Jaime Lannister the Kingslayer was to marry the Lady Sansa of Stark, uniting the two rival families and bringing together the North and South after years of warfare. From dawn the city was abuzz with movement – thousands had poured into the city to witness the historic day so the residents wasted no time in making the most of it; tradesmen were passing round their produce, farmers were calling out for custom, the Inn's were so packed that many had to camp on the streets and singers lined the plaza's filling the air with sweet music. Wine was streaming from the fountains, laughter was common and the sun was shining so brightly that it could have been a summer's day in Dorme. The city had become intoxicated through their excitement.

The bridegroom, on the other hand, was sober. Jaime was standing at the top of the steps leading into the Red Keep, clad in armour of gold plate. His hair was again long and could have been spun from golden silk. He had a perfectly symmetrical face with a grin that could charm any woman, eyes the colour of a lush field, and straight even features. He was clean shaven, having lost his beard upon becoming king, and wore the fine crown with ease although it was heavy and made his neck ache. His only flaw was hidden behind his back yet he knew it was no secret to anyone in Westeros. He looked every inch a king that day. Beside him stood his younger brother, the hideous dwarf Tyrion, back from exile. The youngest Lannister was dressed in robes of black and gold with a crooked smile on his lips. The two were very careful to discard any trace of Lannister red; red would simply not do any longer, the common people and the Northerners hated the Lannisters. Jaime would be the golden king and his reign would be marked by his own gold and Stark white.

The Red keep stood behind them in its impressive glory whilst the small council stood to Jaime's left. The Gold cloaks lined the streets below to keep the common folk back for they were all waiting for the Northerners to arrive. Children were sitting on the shoulders of their parents so they could get a better look at the beautiful Northern Queen who featured in so many of their stories. Sansa Stark had reclaimed her birthright despite all of the difficulties; by using the power of the Eyrie she had successfully fought off the wicked Bolton's and the loathsome Frey's, later teaming up with the South to defeat the Ironmen. She was the talk of much gossip and intrigue for her accomplishments, her beauty and her marriages. She had been much married. Firstly to his dear brother, who had given her an annulment as soon as returning to Westeros, and then secondly to Harrold Hardyng of Arryn, better known as Harry the Heir. It was this alliance that had given her the power of the Eyrie to wield. Although Harrold had died only a month after their wedding (from Red Spots, she had declared), she had given birth to his son and on his behalf ruled as regent still.

It was clear that Sansa was beloved by the people although whether for her deeds or her private life, Jaime was uncertain. Still, as the Northerners approached the city a great horn was blown and the crowd gave an almighty cheer.

He watched as she rode carefully up the column. She was dressed in ivory silk with her auburn hair pinned back away from her face. Diamonds glittered from her ears but apart from that she was plainly dressed. Her beauty was so apparent that adornments seemed unnecessary anyway. She had her mother's Tully features; high cheek bones, piercing blue eyes and a rosebud mouth. Jaime had not laid eyes on her since Winterfell when she was a maiden of ten and one year...nine years had passed since then and she was a woman grown. She was even more beautiful than Cersei had been at that age...and by the way the crowds cheered she was far more beloved. After every few steps she waved at the people as she passed and the men behind her threw silver stags into the crowds. She would be remembered as the bringer of fortune and bounty. A dozen men rode with her, the rest of her train would arrive later, and this included the little heir, her son Harrold, who sat in the saddle in front of one of her bannermen.

She stopped at the bottom of the steps and was helped down from the horse by her sworn shield. When she looked up at him Jaime felt his lips curve into a smile and she returned the gesture cheerfully. She ascended the steps gracefully and when she was near enough he bowed and kissed her little hand. She was almost as tall as he was yet her figure was slender and elegant. "My lady, it is a pleasure to welcome you to King's Landing. I am honoured to call you my betrothed."

"And I, ser," Sansa replied politely.

She motioned for her sworn shield to approach and Jaime was surprised to see the Hound come forth. He had heard that Sandor Clegane had found solace in the North but he was amazed to see how high he'd risen in such a short amount of time. He had been a fearsome warrior and Sansa must've seen his strength from her time under Joffrey's care but from the way he was limping now it didn't seem likely that the man could still swing a long sword...although he could hardly talk. The Hound was holding a cloak made from heavy white lace with a grey Direwolf, the Stark emblem, embroidered in the centre. Sandor gave Jaime a curt nod before swinging the maiden cloak around Sansa's shoulders.

"Shall we?" Sansa held her hand out to him and he took it with his golden hand before leading her through the keep to the Great Sept of Baelor.

The seven crystal towers loomed above the building and Jaime thought how ironic it was that they would be married in this very building. Countless of similar royal couples had been treading the same steps as them...He had stabbed one of those king's in the back, fathered another two, and been brother-in-law to another. Now he, Jaime Lannister, with a crown upon his brow, was marrying Sansa Stark. She too had memories of this place...her father Eddard had been beheaded on the steps outside in front of Baelor I's statue.

Once in front of the High Septon the ceremony began. There were three hundred witnesses around them dressed in their best. Jaime remembered a time when he had spent all night in this sept keeping watch over his father's corpse...that had been back when he was a member of the Kingsguard. He had been king for three years now...by now his sister was a raving lunatic and was kept locked away under Casterly Rock for her own protection whilst her children were dead. Jaime blinked quickly at the thought of her – their – children but no tears fell from his gaze. That was another life, so long ago. His new life was with Sansa and would be filled with honour and respect. He was a good king; the people had been indifferent at first but had grown to love him for his patience and fair justice. He had riddled out the snakes from the small council upon being crowned and was surrounded by those who could actually do the jobs well, and was aided by his brother Tyrion who had been invaluable to his success.

Jaime glanced to the dwarf now and wondered if he and Sansa had once been standing here...the Imp rarely spoke of their short marriage or anything to do with Joffrey's reign. He never spoke of their father. Beside him stood Sansa's son from her second marriage. The boy looked no older than four and had apparently inherited his father's blond hair. His eyes were completely Tully though and so was the mischievous expression on his face. Jaime would be his new step father and he vowed he would take an active role this time. Especially if he planted a Lannister in Sansa's belly as well.

The service was long and in the heat of the day became wearisome but soon enough they had been pronounced husband and wife and he dutifully kissed her. Her lips were sweet and warm and he found the kiss pleasant. He did not hope for love in this marriage, he scorned the idea of sentiment nowadays, but he hoped it would be affectionate and that she would enjoy his company. The marriage had not been his idea originally but it seemed logical; they were the two greatest powers and it only made sense for them to join forces. He had no other equal in the kingdoms. Besides, she was pleasing to look at and the gossip suggested she would not be a boring partner. And so Jaime smiled down at his new wife and led her out of the sept. As soon as the doors opened there was another roar from the crowds below and he laughed cheerfully when they beckoned the couple to kiss. He complied softly and Sansa blushed under all of the attention.

Their wedding feast was just as grand. Only the best had been invited; the best singers, the most accomplished musicians, the most amusing fool's. The food was delicious and came out in seventy courses whilst the wine was the best straight from the Arbour. The fountains outside the Keep's walls would also be flowing with wine but it would be cheap – not that the crowds would be complaining. Jaime and Sansa led the dancers and were called a golden couple. He admired her grace and ladylike exterior and so was surprised to hear her turn a bawdily joke several times. When he asked about it she merely laughed and declared that one had to be comfortable with bawdy jokes if they wished to rule over the Northern men. After their first dance Jaime sat back down behind the high table and watched as his bride danced with Sandor Clegane. The guests were already tipsy by this time and he himself had a few too many cups of wine in anticipation for the bedding.

Yet he needn't have been anxious. Their bedding was polite and comfortable. Neither were maids so there was no tension or fear. Sansa dutifully lay back and kissed him afterwards, murmuring sweet words. He in turn held her in his arms as they slept and in the morning he awoke to her shy smile and a pleasant view of her teats.

The court was delighted with the results. It had been so long since Westeros had had a king and queen who enjoyed each other, let alone a king who was actually old enough to marry. They fell into their royal routine easily and he found Sansa the perfect wife. Her younger brother Bran had resumed control over the North in her absence but as a cripple found it hard to inspire loyalty alone. She kept in constant correspondence with the other Stark and her bannermen, making sure that she wasn't forgotten, yet still had the time to win over the southern lords. She was charming, witty, intelligent, and beautiful; they swarmed around her like bees.

Though as he predicted, no love flourished. She was affectionate to Jaime and caressed him in public but when she smiled at him there was no light in her eyes. She never lied to him and told him that she loved him and for that he was thankful, yet he missed the feeling of being wanted. In time he took lovers, just as his brother-in-law Robert had. No one of important birth as he would not wish to shame his wife, but the whores and concubines served to make him laugh and ease his tensions. He knew that Sansa was aware of his actions but never once did her smile slip and she never scolded him.

He found out why a few months after their marriage.

He'd been out hunting with some of the lords but had quit early due to his horse losing a shoe. After sending it to the stables he'd gone inside the keep and gone to his solar, only to find a letter addressed to his wife. He meant to take it to her in her rooms, but a moan had stopped him in his tracks. His solar was connected to hers by a small wooden door that only they had the keys to but today the door was an inch open. She usually kept the door locked but a glimmer of light by the wall told him otherwise. Usually the queens used the room as a place to retire to after a long day but Sansa had been adamant on wanting a place to work so had been given her very own solar.

He'd stepped quietly towards the door and couldn't help but peep through the small gap. The sight made his mouth drop.

Sansa was naked from the waist up and she was sitting on her desk with her fine dress rumpled around her. Sandor Clegane stood in-between her legs, fully dressed, embracing her. Jamie could only see the Hound's back and if she looked towards the door Sansa would've seen him but her eyes were closed and she had her head thrown back.

Sandor was kissing her throat and pawing at her breasts. The sounds Sansa made were that of delight and Jamie bit his lip; he had never seen her like this. She looked up at her sword shield and beckoned him to lean down so she could kiss his lips. When they parted she was smiling and, more strangely, so was he. The Hound looked more content than Jamie had ever seen him. He was looking at Northern girl as though she was the most precious thing in the world. Even though she was sat on top of her desk he was still larger than her and she kissed his chest, making him groan.

Jamie had seen the Hound's mangled lips and burnt face and wondered how Sansa could be so close to him. She had always seemed such the perfect lady.

However, when Sandor picked her up she only grinned and he sat down in her place so that she was straddling him. They kissed for a few more moments, their lips moving with increased passion, before he undid the laces of his breeches and she sunk down slowly onto his length. For a second they did nothing but gaze at each other and then Sansa hitched up and repeated the motion – making them both catch their breath.

Jamie knew what was happening and he looked away while they panted and made love. And making love was what they were surely doing. This was not their first encounter, of that he was sure, and he wondered how long they'd been at it. He'd made up his mind to leave but when he heard them speak he lingered.

"Little bird," he heard Sandor rasp. "We can't keep doing this."

They paused in the act and he heard Sansa sigh. "Nobody knows."

"Someone will find out. And I don't give a damn if they put my head of a spike but I won't let them do it to you."

"You would hardly be able to stop them in that case," she replied, mischievously. "Dying for love. Doesn't that strike you as poetic?"

"Sansa, be serious," he put a hand under her chin and forced her to look at him. His other arm was around her back, holding her to him.

"I am. Nobody will find out, Sandor, I promise. We've kept this a secret for so long...Besides, the king takes his pleasure elsewhere. He's a good man, he would understand."

"Not if the court mocked him."

"They won't. They love their golden couple too much. Nobody wants anymore dramatics." Sandor kissed her and she ran a hand down his scarred face. "I won't give you up."

"You haven't tired of me then?" he mumbled playfully.

She grinned and once again rolled her hips. Sandor groaned. "Never. Ever since King's Landing you have protected me. You saved me from Littlefinger, my marriage to Harry, and helped me reclaim my lands. Always you have been at my side, and you always will. I love you, Sandor."

"Aye, you too," Sandor kissed her fiercely once more and then thrust up into her. "Your grace."

They made love and Jamie watched from behind the door. After they were done he stole away back into his rooms and sent for a whore.

The reign of Jamie Lannister and Sansa Stark was one rich with bounty and filled with happiness. The Seven Kingdoms were restored and protected. The common man finally got his fair wage and the red God banished from the realm. They reigned beside one another for thirty years. During that time Sansa bore Jaime three sons and two daughters, requesting two of the names to be Eddard and Catelyn. They were golden haired and blue eyed, strong like their father and beautiful like their mother, with the Stark pride. She also bore three bastard sons with black curls who were sent off to foster families with Jamie cheerfully turning a blind eye. They lived peacefully and always enjoyed one another's company. When they greeted their subjects they were all smiles and even held hands.

They were beloved, and their individual lovers stood a step behind them.


End file.
